There’s the newspaper double-spread with photos of domestic relatability, or the montage of sobs and synthesisers on a TV profile. The first three are largely enacted through media coverage parts four and six can be engineered through the same. The academic Alex Parrish parses the redemption cycle into six stages: loss, shame, punishment, repentance, triumph and forgiveness.
Steve Smith departs from Cape Town International airport in 2018 with a long road ahead of him. Any Australian bowler generating reverse swing will generate suspicion as long as David Warner is in the side. Drug cheats who win are assumed to be still on the gear and when losing are derided as nothing without it. Former match-fixers can come back to win without suspicion but never lose. Dopers, match-fixers and other cheats are their own genre, as their failings are personal but take place within the sport. There are unique redemption stories – Rubin Carter with a reputation as a fierce boxer, falsely convicted of murder, campaigning for his eventual release South Africa after apartheid appearing in Rugby World Cups and cricket Tests and Olympic Games. Money and legal clout ensure those implicated in crimes are rarely convicted, and a lack of conviction in both senses is used to stifle the question of whether violence should prohibit a return to the public arena. There are often greater consequences for the former than the latter. It can be as mundane as sexual infidelity, as serious as sexual assault. Transgression can get more boutique, like NFL player Michael Vick’s dog-fighting ring. These might aggregate into alcoholism or addictions to any of the substances ideal for those with a lot of ready cash and a need for a clean system in 12 hours. The basics are drink-driving, car crashes, messy nights on the town. Between all the world’s athletes, the money, the youth and the high-risk personalities, these form a substantial body of work. The other kind of redemption story involves off-field failings. After the US men’s basketball team committed the sin of not winning gold at the 2004 Olympics, the narrative got so baked into their 2008 campaign that the Dream Team nickname became the Redeem Team. “One common thread runs through almost every major sports moment so far this year, and that is redemption,” wrote The Sport Digest in 2017. In the churn of sport results this isn’t a narrative, it’s a sequence. More broadly though, it’s applied to any success that follows any lack of success. A team that wins the year after fumbling a final? A footballer slotting a crucial penalty after blowing it last time? The headline reflects the feeling. “I know that my redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand on the earth,” says the Book of Job, and duly on a mountain above Rio de Janeiro you’ll find the firm footing of Christ the Redeemer, eternally signalling a wide. Hold on to this receipt, redeem this offer at any participating outlet. Even our frequent flyer points get redeemed, becoming shitty appliances in a late rush before the airline goes bust. We saddle up the Xbox to ride the range in Red Dead Redemption. Action heroes wrestle their pasts, the prodigal son makes his passage home.